


Not This Day

by ruby666



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Die Together, F/M, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Growing Up Together, Loki Redemption, alternative ending, goddess of flowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:34:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23996092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruby666/pseuds/ruby666
Summary: One shot Sifki, written before I saw Thor 3: Ragnarok, based on a Tumblr/Instagram Post (that I do not have a link to) it goes like this:"What if in Thor 3 they don't even make a Sifki canon at all until the final battle and Loki is fighting there and Sif is fighting here and suddenly a blade goes through her and Loki looks over and sees her and he screams her name, but there's no sound and we just see the agony in his face and the audience just knows that throughout these 3 movies he's loved her all along."
Relationships: Loki & Sif (Marvel), Loki/Sif, Loki/Sif (Marvel)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 37





	Not This Day

**Author's Note:**

> this is so old im just now posting it.

His heart stopped. His breath froze in his lungs. The air hung still as the dead. In his eyes nothing moved. There she stood with a blade shoved through her back, between her shoulder blades, pushing through her chest, ripping her heart in two. Blood poured over her silver armor. The creature who wounded her, was no sooner shot in the head with an arrow. But it would not undo the fatal blow cutting the fierce warrior. _His_ fierce warrior, Sif. The instant metal struck bone and flesh Loki knew she would end this day, leaving him. She would be gone. Her hair would never slip through his hands again. He would never hear her calling to him. He would never see her love for him. There were too many _never’s_.

*

"Sif? Why do you try so hard to be a boy?" Loki taunted.

She swung at the dummy harder with a grunt, "I do not strive to be a boy. I strive to be a man." She jabbed the target with the hilt of her sword, spun low and swung at the location of the knees. The dummy fell over, limbs rolling off.

Rising from her position she sheathed her sword at her hip with triumph in her eyes. She was only in her mid-teens and she was as good as any older fighter. She practiced for hours each day, fighting thin air hoping one day a monster may take the place of empty space.

"Have you ever tried being a girl?" Loki asked. The same pride in Sif’s eyes was also in his heart, for her. He was sitting on the fence surrounding the arena she was practicing in. He would never admit it, but he liked to watch her. The way she moved was so angelic and deadly at the same time. She had the legs of stealth; she was silent wherever she walked. Some day she would be a fierce fighter, she would slay a thousand men. Make the kingdom proud, Loki could only hope to do the same.

"Have you?" she retorted. Sif walked about the arena pilling up all the straw and wooden dummy's she had slaughtered.

Loki did not answer. Once or twice he tried to make himself into a woman in the hopes of getting close to Sif. He found this tactic no better than just watching her himself. He found Lady Sif was not as open as he had hoped. He found she had no friends outside of Thor and the Warriors Three. He liked to think he was her friend too even though he wanted to be so much more then that. But alas, she did not trust people, not even Thor. So why would she trust him.

Loki hopped off the fence and into the arena. Sif payed no mind to him as he went around gathering the limbs in silence with her. Loki knew that if he was quite enough and didn't speak, she would sometimes loose herself to silence and start to hum. It’s not like she forget he was there, in fact she _knew_ he was there, he was almost comforting. Soon enough he could hear the faint humming from her throat, the songs of tales of battles won. One day Loki wanted to hear her sing, just for him, the songs of asguardian love. As he picked up the scattered weapons and targets, he watched her. How her hair had almost fallen out of her braid. How her hips and breasts had grown. He had always thought of Sif as beautiful, now that they had both changed with growing up, he now thought she had become something larger then beauty.

*

His darling Sif stood motionless for a moment. As if shocked that someone had bested her. Her armor was supposed to be coated in the blood of enemy, not her own. The silver was gone, replaced by crimson. It was a sight that would haunt Loki the rest of his life. He watched as her grip loosed and she dropped her own sword, it fell to the ground in a clank. The only sound resonating in his ears. The wind swept her hair about her frozen face. Her mouth was open in shock and pain, rimmed with blood splattered lips, her chocolate eyes wide staring at nothing. A slow glistening tear trickled down her face before she fell to her knees.

*

"Oh come now, just one dance Sif," Thor begged on one knee before the Lady Sif.

"Thor I said no." Her tone was final and absolute but in Thor's drunken state it merely slipped over his head. Most people would not dare to refuse a god. Sif however was not most people.

Thor laughed heartily and grabbed one of her hands to his face kissing each bruised knuckle from the previous battle. His scruffy beard rubbed the wrong way on her hand, and she tried to break his grasp, but the golden prince was much stranger than she. "Thor I will not dance with a drunk like you."

The Warriors Three laughed and hollered at her words. Sif had become part of Thor's group not long ago and she was far from being treated with the respect she desired. It seems the only one who respected her was Loki.

"Thor, the Lady has said no." Loki spoke up, as if on que, from his place on the sofa by the fire. In the splendor of a large feast, Loki was reading a book. He wasn't really reading though. He had been sitting still watching her every move like a hawk. Now into their twenties he could appreciate the woman she had become. Tonight, she wore a silver backless dress that flowed off her hips like water. He knew she hated wearing dresses, but it was customary for feasts as grand as this. Loki could not deny that she looked ravishing. Rarely has he seen her in such a wardrobe, let alone seen so much skin. The minute she had walked into the dining hall his jealous streak flared. Every man that so much as approached her got a glare from Loki. Yet the power to approach her himself was lost. She remained the whole night without a dance. Now Thor wanted one, but only as a jest.

Thor dropped her hand and rose on his drunken feet nearly falling over again, "You're no fun brother." Thor grabbed another goblet and threw back his golden mane taking another drink.

Sif’s gaze had wandered and now she was staring at Loki. Why would he care? She thought. Then again, he was the nicest one of the bunches to her despite the occasional pranks and jests. She studied his form taking in his black laced shirt over green pants, his golden embroidered vest undone. She had noticed how handsome he was long ago when they entered adulthood, but tonight more than usual. She blamed it on the mead. No doubt she had too much and her body still ached from the battle.

She rose from her seat and gave a curt node to her companions. "If you'll excuse me gentlemen I wish to retire." Without another word she turned her back and walked out of the hall and down the corridor. As she walked back to her room, she fingered the flowers glowing in the moonlight as she walked past them. They were delicate but beautiful. Her mother once told her she was the goddess of war, and flowers.

"Not those flowers." A voice called, running the silence.

Sif immediately reached down and drew her blade from her ankle faster than most. When she whipped around and held the blade at a throat, she saw it was Loki's.

He grinned and chuckled, "Defiantly _not_ those flowers." He reiterated and reached up, gently pushing her hand away. The cold metal left his neck and he saw Sif relax her shoulders.

"Then what flower am I?" she bent down and sheathed her blade. Sif knew he must have been reading her mind. Most of the time she did not care, she learned she was far better at keeping her secrets hidden; his magic could not go so deep into her head. In truth Loki didn’t want to use magic on her, he wanted everything between them to come naturally.

"Something much more alluring, it is strong and lives through all the seasons." As he spoke, he stepped closer and Sif stepped back. Now this… this was a dance. One more step and her back laid flat on a column by the edge of the balcony.

Sif's breaths were coming at uneven sharp inhales. She didn't know what he was up to, another trick or maybe something real? With her cornered, he braced his forearms on either side of her head and stared at her. He had only been this close to her in combat or training. His dark green eyes penetrated her soft brown ones. He saw the universe in her eyes, he saw everything he could have with her. Love, life, _a family_.

Sif's cheeks started burning red at his close proximity and intense gaze. He was so close she could feel his ice breath fanning her lips. Her stomach dropped as his eyes wavered from hers to her lips. In that moment she realized she wanted him to kiss her. Sif had never let her mind wander to men, but the few times it did, it went to Loki. For years she imagined his cold skin on hers, his dark hair in her fingers, his silver tongue on her burning skin.

As if sensing her thoughts, Loki's lips gravitated towards hers. His soft cold lips pressed onto Sif's plump pink ones. Her eyes closed, she felt like she was in a dream. Her hands snaked up his shoulders to clutch fistfuls of his hair pulling him closer. This was her first kiss; it was heated and sloppy. Loki didn’t mind at all. He removed one of his arms from the wall to place his palm on her flat stomach pressing her into the column. He traced her lower lip with his tongue asking for entrance. Her lips parted and he evaded her mouth, he had longed for this. All the kisses with strange women before, they became obsolete in his memory. Now there was only this, only _her_.

She opened to his kiss tracing her fingers down his neck to his sternum where his vest was open. His skin was smooth and cold to the touch, it was electric to touch him like this. She sighed into the kiss as his hand moved from her clothed stomach to grasp a breast through the fabric. Sif had never been kissed before, never touched like this before. But here she was being fondled by a prince, by a _god_. Both parties found themselves wishing for the clothes to be gone. As if on instinct, her nimble fingers made quick work of pulling leather straps from their clasps on the remainder of his vest. Only to add to her frustration she was met with the lace shirt underneath. Her nails clawed at it, causing the delicate fabric to rip.

“Eager, are we?” He chuckled darkly as he moved from her lips to her neck. He placed hot open-mouthed kisses down her neck and over her shoulder. The cold of his lips traced over an old scar on her skin. Scars were trophies to warriors. Often he offered to heal her after battle, but she always said no, for the glory. His hand gingerly brushing the strap of her dress down her arm as his mouth followed. "Have you lost your flower yet, milady?" he murmured huskily as he placed a kiss under her ear. He would take her right here in the hallway, on this balcony above the golden city if she let him.

Sif clutched at his torn shirt in fear of falling, falling in love or to her demise, "No my prince." Her voice was laced with soft desire. A desire he would gladly kindle.

_My prince_. Those words would replay in his memory for a millennium. He nipped the skin rather harshly earning him a whimper, "Then let me have it."

Feeling a surge of courage, her hand slithered down his chest and clutched his hardening crotch, "As you wish."

*

A small trickling of the warrior's blood trickled from her mouth, down her chin and neck. Her hand slowly moved from her side to touch the sword embedded in her chest, as if it wasn’t real. To his surprise she grabbed the blade and shoved it out of her with a scream. She was refusing to die on an enemy sword. Once it was gone and her scream died, she saw the blood she started shaking. Her head turned to see Loki still standing, still unmoving as he watched his darling Sif die. Her eyes were filled with fear, an emotion he had never seen cross her eyes. Her mouth was open, lips forming his name, but he couldn’t hear it. Her face was almost unrecognizable to him, paralyzed with fear and the notion of death.

*

“Have you no fear Sif?" Loki hissed from his chains. Loki and Sif had been sent on a mission to speak to the witch Kallien of The Forest of the Mad. Hints of war were coming and the witch would make a good ally. She resided in the woods, far off, never bothering anyone. Only those who wondered into her woods after nightfall. Which happened to be Loki and Sif.

The pair had been ambushed before nightfall on the first day. Sif had been butted in the head and knocked unconscious. She would have sensed it if she wasn’t being distracted by her lovers enchanting tongue. Meanwhile Loki had been taken wide awake, but not without putting up a fight to protect his beloved. The forest of Kallien was a force to be reckoned with, his attempts were futile. They were both dragged to a location by invisible things, they felt like they had hands but at the same time it felt like nothing was there. Both of them had been tied with iron chains to an ivory wood pole across from one another. Not so conveniently, both those objects putting a damper on Loki's magic. He struggled for hours till Sif had awoken groaning in pain. Loki tried his best to send comfort or healing spells her way, they appeared to be working as she muttered curses under hear breath.

Sif’s warrior ego was too wounded from being captured to speak and Loki was honestly afraid. They had sat in silence for hours just tied there staring at each other as she tried to hide her pain. They were deep in the woods somewhere. A place where natural light dose not shine. Sif looked about the forest in wonder. She had never been this deep in. The sky was a navy blue but it was light enough were she could see everything. Most plants were silver or white with purple hues. The most intriguing thing was the silence. Wind blew through the trees but there was no rustling of leaves. The Forest of the Mad. The colors were enough to make a person go blind, the silence enough to make them believe in the voices in their heads. Only a special group of people could live here and keep themselves hidden, Witches.

Loki watched her face as she took in the woods. Her eyes sparkled and her lips parted in awe as her pain faded being replaced by the effects of the forest. She looked happy. She looked younger. Loki wanted her to look like that every day. He wanted to see this in her eyes. Why could he not see her so gleeful outside of being chained to a stump? Loki often wondered why Sif did not smile, her face normally stone and void of emotion except for pride and anger, even when it was just them she rarely smiled. He cocked his head to the side as he saw her smile widen when she saw the silver grass beneath her boots crumble like glass. Even if her smile was just because witchery, he promised himself one day he would make such a smile return.

That's when the witch waltzed in from nowhere. She wore white, her hair white, her skin white, her eyes white. She was purely white, like most forest witches. "My, my, my what a lovely surprise." She whispered. As she spoke Loki and Sif could hear all the other forest noises, the birds, the leaves and the crickets. When the witches voice stopped so did all other sounds of the woods. She walked in front of Loki and gently touched his chains, "I never thought I would be graced with the presence of a prince." Within a blink of an eye she was in front of Sif, her long white nails pressing on her throat, "Ah, and a warrior."

The promise of a fight seemed to stir Sif’s mind out of the madness. She chuckled lowly causing one of the witch’s nails to cut her flesh, a small river of reed flowing down her neck and beneath her collar. Loki saw this and his chest rumbled in anger. "I never thought to visit the great Kallien, alive," Sif spoke with a smile. Perhaps the forest was already successful in turning her head.

"Do not get smart with me girl," the witch hissed.

Sif's smile turned into a sharp scowl as she yanked forward on her chains, "Or what-"

"Ladies can we save this bickering for another time?" Loki asked dryly. He was only acting; he wanted the witch away from his warrior before Sif did something she would regret. Sif's brown eyes narrowed at Loki. If Loki knew one thing about Sif it was how much she hatted something coming between her and a good fight.

Kallien the greatest witch of the forest interrogated them for hours, demanding to know this and that. Loki answered as best he could while Sif gave nothing but snide remarks and banter. Loki glared at her telling her to cool it. She had smiled and continued her remarks towards the witch, now only to annoy Loki. Loki was furious with her, did she not know how powerful this witch was, how much he cared for her. He couldn't help but find her adorable like this though. Her upturned nose and higher voice as her quick-witted laughs barked out some rude jest. The witch completely ignored most. Sif had stomped her foot silently in anger and Loki merely chuckled under his breath. Sometimes Sif was but a child with a sword.

After hours Kallien agreed to set them free but only at sunrise. She said it was too dangerous to be off her trees at night or death would surely come. Once she was gone Loki hissed out those words, "Have you no fear Sif?"

She had laughed and replied with a genuine, "Not this day, silver tongue, not this day."

*

But that day was today. He could feel her fear, he could smell it.

"SIF!" he shouted, loud enough to be heard across all the Nine Realms. Finally Loki had found his strength to move. Everything had unfolded in a matter of seconds but it felt like hours to him. He rushed over the dead, hurried past the fighting to reach her. Everyone who stepped in his path, friend or foe, was struck down mercilessly. As soon as he reached her, he collapsed to the ground next to her. the gravel stung his knees but he didn’t care. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, trying to hold her up on her knees, as he pressed his forehead to hers. Every memory they ever shared coursing through his mind into hers. Her eyes looked into his full of love, fear, anger and despair. She never thought this would happen, not like this. Loki placed his palm flat on the gaping wound and pushed as much healing magic as he could into her. Nothing was working, because it was her time and no god or magic could stop that. Loki started scrambling for spells, holding on to a sliver of hope, but Sif's warm blood cloaked hands stopped him. They clutched his face and forced him to look at her.

She could not find her voice so she was left to silently speak the words 'I love you' Even though there was no sound from her lips he heard her voice loud and clear, he heard it in her thoughts.

“I know my darling, I love you. I’m here.” He grabbed one of her hands squeezing it tight, “You fought well, my love.” His voice was shattered between sobs. He was crying for the first time in centuries. He placed a hard kiss on her forehead, body wracked with sobs. As he pulled back he saw the glint in her eyes dull. With her last breath and a gently smile on her lips, her life had left her. Her hands dropped from his face and her body slackened against his.

This is where his almighty Goddess of War and Flowers fell. Fighting against Hela defending his Kingdome. Ever so carefully he laid her down on her back and brushed his blood-stained fingers over her eyes closing them. Picking up her blade he laid it across her body. She would receive a proper warrior’s burial, the grandest there had ever been. Finally he let go and Loki rose from his kneeling position before Sif's dead body. What happened next was the ending of Ragnarok and Loki.

He decided he couldn’t live a life without her, the love of his life, the only person who truly understood him. His hands fisted at his sides and with a fierce yell of pain, he broke himself into a million pieces of powerful magic that flew from him in a radiant ball of fire, killing everyone foe on the battlefield, along with himself. Loki joined his beloved in the stars. They will forever lay intertwined in the night sky beside Frigga. Ragnarok is over and so is the love story of Sif, the warrior goddess, and Loki, the God of Mischief.


End file.
